If We Could Choose Our Own Lives
by DemonBrownie
Summary: 500 prompts on Destiel. Some universes repeat, some don't. 5 prompts written per chapter. This is a process to expand and hone my writing capabilities, nothing more, nothing less. Some prompts have the title in the piece. Others do not. Reviews would be appreciated but I won't hold it against you if you don't.
1. Chapter 1

**001. Evidence**

Castiel had banished Dean to the couch on the first floor…again. While it mostly had to do with the fact that the rough, younger male had stumbled in drink at quarter to one, it also had to do with the fact that he had lipstick staining his collar, lust dust on his pants and was reeking of a foul strawberry scent Castiel knew could not be found in the house.

"Cas, Cas baby," Dean drawled, a sleazy, drunken smile on his face as Castiel ground his teeth.

"Who else have you been calling 'baby' tonight?" he spat, shutting the door on Dean's stupid, attractive face as he slumped against the wall. Castiel had gathered enough evidence of Dean's cheating to have every right to throw him out on the street. But, with the apartment's lease in the Winchester's name and no one for the elder to turn to, Castiel stayed.

**002. I'm here**

Dean never thought he'd be the one shaking Castiel awake, holding him close and whispering sweet nothings to him as he shook and cried from a nightmare that plagued him. Ever since Castiel's powers had abandoned him not only had he started to require food but sleep as well. At first, the angel would stay awake until the deprivation caused him to faint, usually into Dean's arms. However, once the elder Winchester started him on a more average sleep cycle, Castiel had begun to dream. And all his dreams turned into nightmares that tore him apart. All Dean could do was hold the angel close as he panicked, lashing out and scrabbling at the sheets of their motel bed of the night.

"I'm here, Cas; it'll be alright," Dean whispered into the angel's damp locks, trailing fingers down sweat-soaked, trembling skin. "I'm here."

**003. Funeral**

Dean didn't want to go to Castiel's funeral, but Sam didn't give him any choice. A modest service with little fanfare, the event lasted all of about an hour. Closed casket so no one would see that there was only a bloody trench-coat neatly folded up to represent the lost angel, stained with Dean's tears.

Dean didn't cry at the funeral.

**004. Puppy love**

Castiel didn't want a pet. Rather, he didn't understand the necessity of having a lesser creature run around underfoot, crapping everywhere while begging for food afterwards as something pleasant to endure. But, whatever Dean wanted Dean would get, for the bright light in the taller male's jade eyes brought the happiest feelings to Castiel's entire being. A gentle tingle in his fingers and the quickening of his heart before Dean would scoop him up in a hug with a loud laugh before dropping him to claim his new toy. However, when this new toy ran away from the green-eyed male, Cas found himself being the one with a tan ball of slobber and fur situated in his lap most the day while jade orbs dark with envy stared disdainfully down at the puppy.

"Bad Jefferson Starship! Bad!"

**005. Gloves**

Castiel forgot how cold winters were on earth. At first, he was fine with the sharp breeze on his neck and the constant need to lick his lips as his breath fogged around his face. But it wasn't long before the skin of his hands was red and sore, the angel tightening them into fists and hugging himself tight to fend off the relentless cold. Dean found him, huddled outside Bobby's by a long dead Ford van that way, home after catching a werewolf in Atlanta.

Dean smiled gently when he heard the angel let out a small, shivering whimper, hugging himself tighter as Dean approached and kneeled before him.

"Hey, Cas," he murmured, digging a hand into his pocket as glowing blue eyes lifted to meet his own jade green ones. "You need to get a pair of these."

A gentle, foggy laugh left Dean's lips as he coaxed Castiel's arms away from his body and loosened his fists, gently pulling one glove over a hand and then doing the same for the other. Castiel gave him a wordless, wondrous look once he was done, looking from his warmed hands to the Hunter several times before another breeze blew by and sent him into another fit of shivering. Dean stood up and hoisted Castiel up in response, slinging an arm over the angel's shoulders as he led him inside.

"You didn't have to waist for me to come home, you know; you're welcome even when I'm not around."

"I would have; However, I missed you too much, Dean."


	2. Chapter 2

**006. Blackboard**

Dean laughed at the prospect of having a student teacher for three months, elbowing his best friend Ash during the teacher's announcement and offering the mullet-man a mischievous grin. Quite frankly, the elder male was a total ass when it came to student teachers: torturing them unnecessarily with impossible questions, snide remarks and a complete lack of manners. The moment the teacher entered the room Dean would start off with yelling the first name he could think of. For instance, when the petite Ms. Fayte with her glasses and clipboard entered the room the first time Dean stood straight up at his table and shouted "librarian slut!" Sure, it wasn't the best of insults, but Ms. Fayte made the mistake of becoming incredibly flustered and shouting back "it was only one time!" She did more damage than Dean ever could have, even when the Winchester cornered her in the school library a couple weeks later and had his way with her.

So, when the door opened, instead of everyone turning to look at the door they all looked to Dean, waiting for his announcement before bothering to see what the teacher even looked like. Dean, cocky as always, relished in the attention and leaned back in his seat, arms crossed and jaw set in a comfortably snarky smile…that immediately fell the moment Mr. Novak entered the room.

Dressed in a tan overcoat, a suitcase in one hand and his tie twisted backward there were plenty of things Dean could have yelled to discredit the student teacher and set him up for a full quarter of verbal abuse. But this time, Winchester grew quiet and let his arms fall. He leaned forward in his seat, quietly studying the male as he placed his suitcase on his desk and turned to the class, head tipped slightly to the side as ocean blue eyes swept over the sea of quiet students.

"Hello; I'm Castiel Novak, Mr. Novak to all of you, and for the next three months I shall be your English teacher. I hope we both learn from each other during this experience." To anyone it was obvious that the words were completely insincere and coming from a man bored out of his mind (because what college student _really_ wants to spend three months back in a high school hellhole teaching the very brats they graduated to get away from?). However, to Dean, the voice saying these words was far more erotic than any breathless moan or helpless squeal he'd heard any woman let out while he took them in bed (or any other surface they happened to be occupying).

But, disappointed the class was not, though perhaps they ended up slightly uncomfortable when Dean finally made his comment on the teacher - the totalitarian judgement for the blue-eyed brunette with sex hair during his stay.

After his dull announcement to the class, Castiel turned and gracefully picked up a piece of chalk off the teacher's desk, raising it to the blackboard and starting to write out his name when Dean finally shot up, the class all craning their necks to see and listen when Dean finally folded his arms, tipped his head up and down as if to observe the male before he finally spoke: "Nice ass."

**007. Muse**

Dean had four days to find someone to model for him. Originally he had signed up for the college art class as a joke, and to get the art credit he needed to graduate. He thought he could get through the class easy with simple scribbles and stick figures, the extent of his talent when it came to sketching. However, the teacher took one look at his half-assed attempts at what was assigned and tore them in half, telling Dean he had a week to find someone to model for him for a piece otherwise he'd fail for the year when the semester had barely even begun.

Begrudgingly, Dean turned back to the teacher for help since all of his friends were either 1) far too unattractive for him to tolerate staring intently at for a month or two; 2) to fidgety to sit still for hours at a time; or 3) had better things to do. Dean left his classroom that day with a wounded pride and the business card of one of the teacher's favorite students.

Dean arrived at the senior's dorm fairly early the next morning, rapping his knuckles on the door while gingerly holding two coffees in the other. The man that opened the door, droopy eyes still tired and stubble on his chin, took one without a word and gestured for Dean to follow him in.

"Hi, my name is Dean Win-"

"Winchester and you need me to model for you. I know," the elder cut him off, flopped onto his bed and sipping his coffee with a blank expression. "The professor called me after he gave you the assignment; seems as though he doesn't have much faith in you."

"Yeah well I'm a shitty artist!" Dean announced, spreading his arms and shrugging. He didn't notice, but a small smile darted across Castiel's features before he stood up and offered Dean his hand.

"My name's Castiel Novak and I shall be you're muse."

**008.** **Magic**

Castiel believed in miracles. He believed in God. He believed that Jesus rose on the third day and continued to spread his Father's word until he ascended into heaven.

But he didn't believe in magic.

Not even when his friends dragged him to the famous "Winchester Brothers" act on the night of his twenty-fifth birthday. Not even when the elder, rather attractive, brother called him up on stage as a volunteer, stuck his hand into his dress pants and produced a rabbit.

Sure Castiel was positive he hadn't been hanging around with a rabbit in his pants all evening, but he sure it was just some silly parlor trick. He didn't even blink when he got home and found the rabbit sitting on his bed, around his neck a cord with a tag that had seven digits and a first name printed on it.

He told himself he'd call after he figured out how the rabbit got in his pants.

**009.** **Clean**

"I don't know how to describe it, Dean. Please stop asking."

"Cas, it shouldn't be that hard! Just tell me what I smell like to you! Here, I'll start: you smell…clean."

"And you smell like gasoline and cologne, What else do you want to hear, Dean?"

**010.** **Secret **_same world as 006. Blackboard_

Dean and Castiel played this wonderful game where during the school day, they were merely student and student teacher: Castiel would teach Dean and his class about Shakespeare, Poe, Christie, Shelley, Stocker and every other long, boring book or poem he was told to teach the un-eager batch of seniors and Dean would play his own part in sitting in his seat and sighing dramatically with the rest of the class each time Castiel would bring in a new book for them to read from.

At night, the game was different. The loser of this game usually ended up pressed against the wall, the floor, the bed and occasionally the backseat of Dean's beloved Impala crying uselessly while the victor fucked him mercilessly.

The game was a gentle web that would tear apart with a single gust of wind. But that was the way they liked it, and they couldn't get enough of each other.


	3. Chapter 3

**011. Superstition**

Dean kept salt and holy water with him at all times. Ever since he was little his father had trained him and his younger brother Sam to be terrified of everything supernatural. Everything that didn't actually exist. There were no ghouls, no ghosts, no vampires and no shifters. But the habit wouldn't leave Dean so he didn't bother to fight it, accepting of the fact that often when he was to lay with a woman he'd accidentally grab the vial of blessed water instead of the lube he had in his other pocket.

Castiel, on the other hand, believed in no such things. There was a God, there was a Devil, there was a heaven and there was a hell. No ghosts, no ghouls, no _shit_. Castiel was not one to accept the supernatural, unless that entity was an angel of heaven or a demon of hell. He wouldn't go anywhere without a rosary and a crucifix, two things that scared off most the women that hit on him. It also might have been because he'd often psychoanalyze and insult them rather than fuck them in the public bathroom across the hall.

The fact that these two ended up college dorm mates senior room just made that final year of college that much better.

**012. Fantasy**

"Cass pick a tape for the road, would ya?" Dean called from the trunk, moving around some of the many shotguns he had stacked on the side until he finally found the demon knife. Stuffing it under his arm, Dean shoved all the guns back over and shut the trunk. He brushed his hands as he made his way back to the driver's side, sliding into the car and dropping the knife onto Castiel's lap. "Hold that till we get to Bobby's."

After tearing apart a vampire nest, the Winchesters were heading back home and Dean had invited Castiel for the drive. At first, the angel stared at him blankly, head slowly tipping to the side as his eyes clouded over in thought. Sam elbowed Dean, mumbling that he'd broken Castiel when the angel snapped back up and thanked Dean for the offer. Next thing the brothers knew Cass was in the passenger seat, staring out the window.

"I picked the one labeled with a picture of a crown; the scribble underneath was unintelligible save for the first letter 'Q'," Castiel murmured, voice low, gravelly and completely serious as he handed Dean the tape. Dean laughed and shook his head, shoving the tape into the Impala's player before starting the car.

"For future reference, Cass, the artist is 'Queen'. And this is one of the best effin' songs ever!" Dean shouted as he turned the volume up, singing loudly and off-key as he took off down the highway with Cass watching him, a small, amused smile on the angel's face. "_Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide, No escape from reality~_"

**013. Test **_same world as 006. Blackboard and 010. Secret_

During his second week as a student teacher, Castiel assigned his first test. At this point he and Dean were already sleeping together, but Castiel was determined to keep their sexual relationship completely separate from their scholarly one (though Castiel came harder whenever Dean had the presence of mine to call him teacher during sex).

Dean wouldn't have it, though. Post coitus usually consisted of Dead badgering Castiel for help with his homework or a summary of the book that he was supposed to read but really wouldn't. The test was no different.

"C'mon Cass, just tell me the answers!" Dean whined, burying his face into the elder male's neck and pressing close. Castiel frowned, body still sweaty (and sticky) from the sex they'd just had and all he wanted to do was sleep.

"No Dean, I will not assist in your cheating," he grumbled, turning onto his side to face away from Dean and sighing. He heard Dean growl and felt him get off the bed moments later, a small smile of victory on the student teacher's face before he let his eyes close in an attempt to sleep. But Dean wouldn't have it.

A rather feminine cry left Castiel when he was suddenly flipped onto his stomach, hips snatched by greedy fingers before he was yanked backwards and entered in one quick moment. He screeched and scratched at the sheets, over sensitive from their previous sex and nearly crying.

"You'll give me the answers, Cass. Whether you want to or not."

Some how Castiel knew this was true and when he limped into class the next day and passed out the tests he wasn't surprised when Dean walked right up to his desk within ten minutes, test completed and face smug. Castiel also wasn't surprised to see that Dean got a perfect score.

**014. Tease**

"Dean, Dean _please._"

"I don't think so, Cass."

"Dean I'm begging you. I need it."

"No, you _want _it."

"Dean I can't-" Cass broke off with a sigh, dropping his head as Dean took a large bite out of the last burger in the house. "I don't like being teased."

"I like burgers. Go out and buy some more."

**015. Storm**_ same world as 001. Evidence_

It was only a matter of time before Castiel burst. It had been seven long, tiring months of Dean's fooling around late into the night and the older man couldn't take the pain in his heart anymore. Without a word, he spent one night packing all of his worldly goods into the boxes he and Dean had used to move into the nice house. Cass called Gabriel for a ride to the family house, packing up his brother's pick up with all of his boxes before waiting on the porch for the younger man to stumble his way home. Tonight Cass would unleash the storm.


End file.
